Premium Payment
by BixieRosen
Summary: As Captain, his crew comes first. As the loser in a rebellion, the Federation second. And the humans he is bartering for units…somewhere in the middle. One-shot, Edward/Bella, OOC, AH. Because cancelling Firefly after only one season was a tragedy. Action/Sci-Fi/Romance


**Bounty** _noun_

boun· ty | \ ˈbau̇n-tē  
_plural_ bounties

Definition of bounty:

1: something that is given generously / nature's bounty

2: liberality in giving / generosity

3: yield especially of a crop / this summer's bounty of tomatoes

**4 : a reward, premium, or subsidy especially when offered or given by a government**: such as  
a: an extra allowance to induce entry into the armed services  
b: a grant to encourage an industry  
c: a payment to encourage the destruction of noxious animals / a bounty on coyotes  
**d: a payment for the capture of or assistance in the capture of an outlaw / had a bounty of $500 on his head**

_Merriam-Webster_

_._

**Premium Payment  
**By _BixieRosen_

_A Twilight/Firefly One-shot  
_

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"I have a job for us."

Varying levels of agreement great him.

"Fucking finally."

"I could really stop off at at the Scrapyard on the way, really need those parts…"

"How many units?"

"What's the job?"

Ignoring most of his crew, he grabs a piece of half-eaten toast out of Jake's hand. He's hungry.

"Retrieval." It sounds more like wet-Weval through the food, so he tries again. "Retrieval. Of a couple individuals of interest to the dear Federation."

A slight hush falls over the room. The engines are loud in the background.

"A bounty-hunt, then?" Jake is quick and to the point, but even he looks oddly blank at the suggestion.

"Yes."

"I don't…" Alice looks smaller than she normally does. "I don't know. I really didn't like the last one."

"One. Million. Units." Edward's made sure to properly chew this time. "Want those parts, Ali? Yes? No? Thought so."

Perhaps he should be concerned that the crew seems more hesitant about legal jobs than they do illegal ones. He gets it. Their comfort lie in the grey area, doing odd jobs, wherever they come from, legality doesn't decide.

This…_this_ is breaking code. Turning on someone who, like themselves, doesn't always keep their nose clean. Only these people have been dumb enough to get found out.

But his crew comes first. Keeping them alive comes first. _Honour be damned._ And this particular job comes with the added bonus of not worrying whether they will all get hauled off to _Volterra_ at the end of it.

"We have a lead from a local. Old contact of mine. They get a fifth, it was their best I'm afraid. We need thirty grand for urgent repairs. The rest is split evenly between us - once, I might add, you've all paid your debts to the pot."

"I do not require my portion, Captain." Carlisle speaks gently, wisdom behind his eyes. "As per our standing agreement."

"More for us." Edward shrugs. "Keep waiting for you to rescind that offer, Reverend." Edward makes to leave, head back to his quarters. Maybe check on the autopilot one more time. Although Emmett will have set it just fine. He knows. He trusts his crew. And his pilot. As long as he set the direction when not distracted by his wife's breasts.

He walks out the room, almost all the way down the corridor to the walkway that leads up to the pilots' seats when a small tugging grabs the back of his coat.

Pausing in his steps he turns and looks down at Alice, the ship mechanic, grease perpetually on her nose. She looks concerned.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Cap." Grey eyes creased with worry, her normally sunny disposition is missing. "Do we know why they're on the run? Maybe they're—maybe they're not criminals."

_The Missing. _

Words, whispered in hidden corners, worry caught in sly glances among those that trust each other in far-away outposts of space.

_What if they are among them?_ Is what she's asking. What if their own crew become complicit in the very things too dangerous to speak of? Those so terrible even breathing of them leaves someone _gone_, as if they never existed?

"Not our problem, Ali. Units are units." The topic makes him uncomfortable, his own conscience grating. But she holds onto his coat, and he needs to address it.

Ruffling her short, dark hair, he smiles crookedly at her. It almost seems to make her smile.

"We need food, little girl. The ship needs repairs. It's not safe – you said so yourself." He sighs. "We need units. We've held out as long as we could. I have all our lives to consider. Six lives versus two. Put it out of your mind." He tries to smile. "Even better, go get me a list of what needs done on the engine."

He can tell she wants to argue, but sees his logic. Of course she does. She was the one to tell him that her last patch-up of the engine could blow, and take the whole crew with it, at any moment.

"Aye, aye, Cap." She sounds resigned. Edward feels it.

The next few days on the ship are tense. Rosalie, his Second, spends her time mapping out every potentially. Gathering what they know, trying to come up with plan B's to her Plan C's. Jake goes above and beyond, digging out weaponry that Edward is sure is somewhat over the top for what is essentially a retrieval mission.

"We need them _alive,_" he tells him.

He simply shrugs.

"Alive is relative, Cap. As far as I see it, they might be prepared for a fight. And they don't need no legs to be alive."

At least Edward doesn't have to worry that _one_ member of his crew will flake out because of any moral qualms.

As much or as little as they appear affected by their current job, practicalities are not so different from normal. There is little to differentiate their current mission from one where they are smuggling someone willingly. Only this time, they are relying on the information of Edward's contact. A mean old hag who Edward has a patchy relationship with. She is useful, Victoria, in small doses. Never-mind the last time they saw one another she tried, and succeeded, in shooting him in the behind.

Clearly, with two-hundred thousand units at stake she is willing to forgive him for _accidentally_ acquiring her stock of engine parts.

When they arrive on the desert moon in question, Edward tries to shake the sense of uncertainty in his gut. Emmett, Carlisle and Alice are staying ship-side, prepared to depart at a moment's notice. Edward readies his lasers, cleaning the weapon easily, the weight heavy on his hip as he watches Rosalie do the same, Jake overladen with weapons hidden under his cloak.

They are setting down close to Victoria's settlement, the small cargo-ship jostling as it hits the soft sand-dunes.

"I want this done quickly." Rosalie and Jake nod, looking about as ready as they are going to be. "And one of you as much as try to provoke Victoria for the Hell of it you'll be the one with a laser up the ass. By yours truly."

As the ship settles, Alice and Emmett come to send them off, Emmett throwing an arm around his wife's shoulders as he kisses her on the cheek. Alice is hovering, kicking her feet as she bites on her nails. The Reverend too has arrived, gently placing a soothing hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"We keep lines of communication open at all times. We don't want a repeat of _Delta-Zeta_." Levelling Emmett with a pointed glare, the man has the gall to smile.

"I will do my damndest not to fall asleep - although I still hold that after twenty-nine hours—"

"Drop it, darling," Rosalie soothes easily, not willing to listen to a re-hashing of the same argument between her Captain and her husband. They are going to be late.

"Right then. No time like the present." Edward hits the large loading-door button, slowly hearing the mechanism groan into action.

"Show restraint, Captain," Carlisle intonates, hand still on Alice's vibrating shoulder. "They too are God's creatures."

"Yeh, yeh, and life's sacred and what not." Jake is clearly over it. "Let's go already. Before Vicky-dear shoots at us."

"Stick to the plan, and have medical prepared in case we need to knock them out."

"Will do, Cap."

With one last kiss to his wife's cheek, Emmett goes to stand by Alice and the Reverend, slinging a large, beefy arm over Alice's slender shoulders.

As the cargo-doors open fully, sand blows into the back of the ship, blinding sun making their small away-team instantly throw down their visors. Rosalie gets on the sand-dodger car, slowly driving down the ramp as the other two walk alongside. Coming down the landing they are greeted by a small group on horse-back, in the front Victoria, flaming hair blowing in the wind with a large shotgun slung over her shoulder. The very one Edward is intimately aquatinted with.

"Vicky, dear. It has been an age."

The flaming redhead shields her eyes with her hand, barely containing her smirk as the trio step onto the sand.

"Edward. You're looking better."

"Yes, well…" he holds back from making any quips. Perhaps her materialistic side has won over for now, but reminding her why she shot him in the first place might not be his best idea. "How have you been?"

"Truthfully?" With practiced movements, she jumps off her horse, meeting Edward in the middle. She looks older than Edward remembers her. Thinner. "Settlement's starving. Children dying left, right and centre. So let's forgo the pleasantries, shall we?"

"Fine by me." Indeed.

"I have a general idea of where they are. I will transfer you the location shortly. They arrived three days ago, on one of the transits. A young man and a woman, posing as a couple. Her head was covered, and his clearly dyed, but they both looked terrified enough to set off an alarm or two. I did some digging, and found uncanny resemblances in a couple of siblings that have been wanted for these past two months. They were signed up to depart on the transit to the neighbouring outpost, and according to the register they were on it, but a reliable source claims they never boarded, so they are still on the planet." Victoria pauses to reach into her pocket and pull out a scratched and cracked comms panel, resting the shotgun under her arm as she pulls up a couple of pictures.

Edward has seen them before, from the official data-base. They both look well-off, probably from the central planets. The man, blue eyed, strong jaw, well-fed, and the girl, dark hair twisted behind her face, strong cheekbones and a piercing look. The pictures appear to be passport photos.

He sees why they posed as a couple. They look different enough, definitely.

"They look nothing like this now. Both much thinner. The man's nose is definitely broken more than once."

Edward nods, expecting nothing less. Being on the run does that to you.

"Now, to the matter of money." Victoria's gaze hardens as she grips her gun once more. "You will not cheat me, Edward Masen. We will write an I-owe-you, and if I hear these two have been captured and my share is not in my account I promise you this half of the quadrant will no longer be safe, boy."

"You don't need to worry about that, Victoria. I already have my reminder, thank you very much." Edward, for once, means to follow through. He has no intention of ending up on one of those wanted lists. And breaking an I-owe-you - his crew would not live three months.

"I am glad we are in agreement." Victoria smiles, urging one of her companions forward. "Sign here."

Edward, as uncomfortable as it makes him, has to place his hand on a provided pad, taking his biometric signature. It sears his skin as he tries his utmost to not winch.

"Now that _that's _done with…" Vicky takes out her own pad once more. "We think they might be hiding in the caves to the south. It's the only place on the damn moon where they might have a chance of surviving past a few days."

"Don't set the hounds on me until we know they're alive, right?" He tries to tease, but there's very little funny about this.

"No dogs necessary - as long as you find them, collect the bounty, and _pay_ me. No need to fret." Victoria gets back on her horse. "You have my digits. I expect to be kept updated on the progress."

"Certainly."

The two groups depart, the trio settling into the sand-car and using crude navigation to find the caves in question. They are silent as they drive, Rosalie at the helm, Jake with guns armed, and Edward trying to tell himself that he lost his morality a long time ago. All that mattered was his crew. _Those_ are the people in his care.

In sight of the caves, they switch to the electric engine. Using his navigator, Edward triangulates with the ship's scanners, using the on-board sensors to map the surrounding areas. It takes some time, scouring through the caves, but then, after an hour, they find a heat signature. Two signatures, more specifically.

"Let's get on with it. And Jake - shoot to stun, will you?"

"Don't kill the money-cow. Got it."

For all his hesitation, the mission goes smoothly. Too smoothly.

Once the couple are located, Edward and his team silently approach on foot. They find the man outside, distracted, tired. His hair is dark, unlike the picture, and the gaunt appearance makes him look years older, but it is undoubtedly him.

Jake's dart hits true. Right in the neck. The poor sod doesn't even recognise what has happened before he's on the ground, out cold.

The woman, from inside the cave, sees the man collapse, and she is easy pickings. Desperation prevents logic. She runs out, throws her body over her brother's.

"Don't harm him." Her voice is high, terrified. Unlike her brother, she is not covered in bruises, but she looks positively malnourished. Her clothes are barely held together, her hair cropped off as if barely growing back after being shaved off. And her eyes - not dark, as in her picture, but glowing, brilliant gold. Edward has never seen anything like it.

"Please. Just leave him be. He doesn't have to be part of it. I'm the one he wants."

"Jake. Get on with it."

Edward hates the feeling in his gut.

With a swift motion, Jake sends the second dart flying. It hits its target, true and through. Her eyes flutter, and she is out.

With steely determination, they haul the unconscious pair onto the back of the car. Edward makes himself send a message to Victoria, saying he's found them.

Back on the ship, Edward makes a point of letting the Reverend check their vitals before locking the sleeping pair in an empty sleeping quarter. Enough food stores are provided to keep them fed, and basic facilities softens Edward's guilt.

Alice is nowhere in sight. He doesn't blame her.

"Let's get going, shall we?"

As they leave the moon, the crew is tense. Evening meals are taken in silence, or in solitude. Jake has taken up residence as guard, and as soon as Emmett sets the auto-pilot the married couple hide away in their own quarters. Alice is working on the engine. Silent. No music. Hidden under wires.

Edward lingers in the pilot's cabin, staring out the window at stars floating by. Travelling through space, they are headed toward the nearest outpost with Federation presence. He stares at the message, typed out, on his command controller. All he has to do is hit _send_.

_Send, damn it._

"Captain?"

"Reverend."

He is not surprised Carlisle has found him. The man has an annoying tendency of knowing when Edward is hesitating.

"The mission went well."

"Stop hedging and just say what you've come to say." Edward has no patience. None left.

"I have not come with a set agenda." Still, Carlisle gravitates toward Edward, hands clasped behind his back as he stares out over the console. "Simply to enquire for my Captain's health."

"Health's just fine, Reverend. If it's my soul you're enquiring about then I'm afraid that ship's sailed."

The Reverend's lined face looks at his Captain with a level of caution. He worries for the younger man. Worries that the Captain bears the full responsibility willingly, a responsibility that is shared between them all.

"We all agreed to this mission. Everyone agreed."

"I know." Edward's words are bitten off. He doesn't need the pep-talk. He needs to send a communication to the Federation to tell them what to expect. "Just get on with it, say it, and then go and sleep happy knowing you've done your Christian duty."

"That is not—"

"_Cap - lady's awake."_

Jake's voice comes over the intercom, and with brows furrowed, Edward gets out of his seat, conversation with the Reverend forgotten. She got enough sedative to stay out cold for at least another five hours.

He meets Jake, Reverend at his heels, outside the locked room.

Temporary cameras have been set up, monitors placed at a table in the hall.

_I'll be damned_.

"She's awake."

He barely believes it, but the camera does not lie. She is awake, pacing the length of the room, having shrugged out of her top layer which lies over her brother's prone body.

"Fuck knows how, Cap." Glancing over at Jake, Edward dislikes the fear there. "She should be out cold. The damn brother should be awake first. And her eyes, man. I don't know. I don't like it. She freaks me out."

Attention glued to the screen, Edward does not fail to notice how her pacing falters. Almost…_almost as if she heard him_. But that is nonsense. The door is perfectly sealed. He could scream and she wouldn't hear.

"Go get some sleep, Jake. I'll take over. Reverend, you too."

The two men silently agree with their Captain, hearing the order.

He is left alone, settling down on the stool Jake had dragged out. The ship's clock tell him he should most likely be sleeping, but sleep is far away from his mind. He stares at the video-feed, the girl continuing her pacing. Every now and then she places her hand on her brother's forehead, checking on him.

He conveniently decides to forget the communication he is meant to send.

Hours pass. Still he waits.

In the silence of the ship, Edward battles his conscience.

_Don't harm him. Leave him be. Leave him be. I'm the one he wants. I'm the one. I'm the one he wants. _

Her words ring in his ears. The previous, and only time they had taken a bounty the man had been openly violent. The mission had gone badly. Rosalie had gotten harmed in the process, and he knew, _personally_, that the man they were handing over the Federation damn well deserved it.

"Just a job. It's just—a job."

A low knock throws him out of his thoughts. Eyes dragged to the video-feed, he sees that the girl is standing by the metal door, mere feet away from where Edward is sitting. Palms flat on the surface, her ear pressed against the cool metal. He can almost imagine her silhouette from this side.

She knocks again.

Hesitating, he turns the comm on.

"Captain speaking."

"_Hello." _Her voice is fragile over the comm unit. Less pleading than before. _"You're—you're the Captain?"_

"I am."

"_Where are you taking us?"_

He feels it is a fair question.

"Nearest Federation outpost." He doesn't see the harm in saying it. "It's nothing personal. I'm afraid the Federation is offering a million for the pair of you."

"_One million."_ Her voice trails off. _"Odd, knowing how much you're worth._"

"Don't know what you've done to earn that sum. Not many go for that."

Why is he speaking back? He has no idea.

"_Maybe it's my brother who's worth the million." _The smile in her voice is pained.

"Why don't I believe you."

"_I suppose…I suppose there is no chance in you just…letting us go?"_

"Sorry. Not possible. I have…made commitments to delivering you. Have people to take care of."

"_I can…I can respect that._" On the video feed, he sees how she slowly slides down the door, knees to the floor. _"Only I too have someone to take care of. Someone who risked his life to save mine."_

It is all too much for the Captain's fledging morality, and he shuts the feed, muting it. The girl stays on the ground, palms flat against the door. Only many hours later does she move, when her brother wakes. Together, they eat, take turns forcing each other to use the facilities. Edward can see the care there. The relationship between them, silent, strong. Neither of them are panicking. He would have preferred if at least one of them flew off the handle.

In the morning, Rosalie shoos him away to get a few hours of sleep. He does not argue.

His dreams are plagued by golden eyes. Plagued with every little thing he has ever heard about them. _The Missing._

_Gifted children. _

_Decorated military. _

_Those of great potential. _

_Amazing opportunities turned into - silence. _

_Gone. _

_Desperate parents diagnosed with severe psychosis. No child ever existed._

_All made up. _

And all that, he can deal with. That is not what keeps him awake. No, it is the rumours _unspoken_.

The odd people that turn up, the legends and horror-stories made to scare children from the very edges of the known universe. Creatures…with extra abilities. Crazed. Manipulated. _Not human._

He wakes in a cold sweat, telling himself to get a grip.

His shower is brief, too cold, hoping to shake the nerves.

In less than twenty-four hours, they will arrive at the outpost in question.

_Soon all of this will be in the past._

Food tastes like cardboard in his mouth. Alice is still hiding, the Reverend hovers, and Emmett and Rosalie are subdued. Only Jake seems his normal, brisk self. The crew need the bounty off the ship. The sooner, the better.

Perhaps it is Jake's unaffectedness that pushes at Edward's instinct to take back guard-duty. Emmett and Rosalie are fine piloting the ship. He is not needed.

The video-feed shows the siblings huddled together, the girl with her head on her brother's shoulder.

They don't seem dangerous. Don't seem like they're worth one million units.

_One million units._

"One million. For what?" He murmurs the words, frustrated, not understanding. Finally having to admit that he is struggling with this, struggling with handing them over to the Federation without knowing their crimes.

The voice…is quiet.

_All you have to do is ask._

Pushing at his consciousness, the thought does not feel like his own. It feels like honey and lavender, a gentle intrusion.

_No one else has to know._

He's going insane.

Lost his mind, finally, among the stars.

"_Not yet, Captain. I am sorry, if I startle you."_

It is her voice. The girl's voice.

In confusion, he stares at the comm unit, reassuring himself that it is in fact off.

"_You want to know why I am worth one million? Why the Federation want me? They are not in the habit of letting their property go."_

He stands up, old military training somehow telling him that he should be standing, as opposed to sitting, when something startles him. He is hearing voices. Someone is speaking. Speaking _to him_.

"_Look at the Comm unit, Captain. See how I am flexing and relaxing my hand at my side?"_

It is true. The girl is doing exactly that. Not keen on conceding that he's lost his mind, shock is pushed aside. Training kicks in, somewhere.

She is speaking to him - through her mind?

"_Yes."_ And more disconcertingly, her eyes find the camera in the room, head still leaning on her brother's shoulder. Her lips are still, no movement. Edward almost stumbles as he grapples with the moment. If he's gone insane, he will have to deal with it later.

"You can hear me?" He barely raises his voice over a whisper, hissing the words. "How?"

Images, memories, float through his mind that are not his own.

_People in lab-coats._

_Operating tables. _

_Nose-bleeds and pain._

_Broken bones, beatings, flashing red eyes as the corpse of a man in a Federation uniform slips from her hands._

"_I am made. Engineered."_

This time it is Edward's time to pace. He pulls at his hair, trying to find the space in his head that is purely his own.

"You're an experiment? You're—"

He can't say the word, _the Missing_, out-loud. But she hears it. In his thoughts.

"_We are not missing. We are taken, Captain. My brother found me. Helped me escape. Refused to forget."_

"Fucking Hell." Internally he swears in every language he knows. Over and over.

And then he considers his own I-owe-you. Consideres Victoria's ire - which would not stop at a shot in the ass. Considers the engine repairs, considers how their food stores are so depleted the ship's recycling capabilities are working off little to nothing.

"_If you hand us over to them,"_ her voice is stronger this time, more intrusive as it echoes between his ears, _"they will kill my brother - and torture me until there is nothing left."_

"Fuck this." Turning around he walks away from the corridor, up to the Pilot's chamber. His head is spinning.

"Rosalie - guard them." He barely stays long enough to see her bewildered face as he darts away, moving quickly through the ship. He finds himself in the cargo bay, somehow terrified she can still hear his thoughts, but his head is silent except for his own frustration.

He is wavering.

He _cannot_ waver. Cannot be the reason his five-strong crew starve in deep-space.

He could release them all. Drop them off at a trading-post. Be on his way. But Rosalie would refuse to leave him. And therefore Emmett. They go too far back. And Alice - Alice would be lost. Too easily exploited. Too smart. Too gentle. Remembering the state she was in when he first took her on board is too easy.

Jake would be fine. And the Reverend too. Although Jake might just shoot him for good measure for throwing away such an opportunity.

As soon as the thought occurs to him, he knows exactly what he needs to do.

He heads to the top of the ship, the make-shift training hall where Jake can normally be found when not on duty.

"Cap," he greets, the large, burly man half-way through a workout routine.

"I'm gonna need us to be prepared for a fight when we get them out of the holding room." Some odd, perverse part of Edward hopes the girl can hear him now. Give up hope.

"How?" He stops his motion, wiping his brow on a towel. "They're about the weight of a bag of bones."

"The girl is—weird. Something with her. I want them sedated as soon as possible. Do the exchange and forget all about this mess."

"Not getting cold feet, are ya, Cap?" Edward dislikes the cautious glint in his eye.

"I don't get cold feet."

"So you've told the Feds we're coming? I would tell them we're coming."

"Last I checked…" Sleep deprivation and Jake's continuous hope that one day the ship would be his rattles Edward's nerves, "I am the Captain of this ship. I decide what I would and would not do."

As much as Edward will risk his life for any of his crew, Jake including, he does not _trust_ him. He trusts him with his life - when on a mission. It is an odd dynamic, only making sense in Edward's head.

"Hey," hands in the air, palms up, Jake smiles, but the tension does not leave his eyes. "I know where I'm not wanted. Don't you worry about me, Captain. I'll go…get those sleeper darts."

Edward spends the rest of the journey in the co-pilot seat, Emmett silent, for once. When Emmett sets the autopilot for the night, Edward remains, sending the comm to the Federation he has previously forgone.

_Persons of interest. Need verification and payment on arrival._

That is all he writes.

His inside writhe sending it.

Nothing personal, he tells himself. If he concerned himself with every lost soul at risk of torture at the hands of the Federation he wouldn't be able to do anything. He reminds himself that the _last_ time he concerned himself with the greater good of his fellow humans he got himself caught up in a rebellion that left him broken, beaten and fucking nowhere. Drifting at the edges of space, hopping from colony to colony, barely making it through the day.

He needs a distraction, but there is none to be had. Those he normally turns to are too much in danger of shattering his resolve, and Rosalie, as much as she trusts his judgement, is clearly being silent on account of likely seeing the practicality in it. Not to mention that she needs regular time alone with Emmett to be a remotely tolerable human being.

When they begin the approach to the planet in question, he hears light steps up the landing to the pilot's cage.

"They are human beings." Alice sounds like she has been crying.

"So are we." He doesn't dare look at her. He feels her behind his seat, feels her stare at the back of his neck. It makes his skin crawl. "It's not personal, Ali. We will starve unless we do this. Or, if we're lucky, blow up and get sucked into deep space for a quick death."

He expects her to argue, but when he turns around, she's left.

The sooner they got this over with, the better.

At the descent, when Emmett has once more taken the reigns, Edward takes the time to look at the wanted listing for the siblings.

Most of it is standard. Wanted for crimes against the Federation. Treason, theft, murder. But unlike others…this one comes with a warning.

_Once apprehended alert authorities immediately and do not attempt transfer unaided. _

Attempt transfer unaided.

Something about the wording. Something about it.

Moving prisoners is always the most risky part, the transfer, but this…this is more.

A healthy dislike for the Federation to which he lost a war makes him disregard this message. Instinct telling him that he wants the soldiers to be unaware of who they are transporting until the very last moment.

The planet's surface looms into view beyond the clouds, the terra-forming coming along all too pleasantly on a planet where the Federation keeps permanent barracks. Very gently, after being given clearance by ground-control, they dock at the port, their small cargo-ship dwarfed by the cruisers already moored.

When the cargo-bay opens Edward stands with Rosalie to one side, Jake on the other, and the other three lingering behind. Edward stands with hands on his hips, weapons in clear view, as a handful of soldiers, in military black, march onto the ship, looking positively bored.

"You said you had two?" the man says, light blond hair and half yawning, looking like it had been long since he had any need to prove himself.

"They're in a holding cell in the back." Edward motions for them to follow, and his own trio plus four guards wander through their small ship, and Edward enjoys immensely as the head constable bangs his head against a low-hanging beam.

Outside the holding room, Edward is relieved to see the video-feed still on, both siblings inside, and no voice in his head.

When the head guard looks at the feed, Edward brings out his own comm and shows the wanted notice, silently.

His stomach twists when the guard goes sheet white, eyes darting between the posting and the feed.

"Those—those are—"

He doesn't look like he quite knows what to make of himself.

"Wanted. For one million. So I suggest you transfer me the units and grab your property. I have places to be."

"I need—" the man is sweating. "I need more guards." He goes to grab the comm unit at his shoulder, but Edward stops him by grasping his own weapon, pointing it at the man's face before anyone else can react.

The situation tenses immediately, the guard and his men too complacent to react fast enough, and Rosalie and Jake alert from the moment the guards stepped onto the ship. Weapons are pointed in each of the four guards' faces, fear practically rolling off them.

"I don't think so, Constable. I thought I made myself clear. You transfer me the units - _then_ you grab them. In that order."

The constable seems to gather himself, remembering somewhere in the recesses of his mind that he is a military man, and despite sweat pouring down his nose he is doing remarkably well with a gun pointed at his mug.

"Are you threatening an officer?"

"Not at all, wouldn't dream of it." Edward lowers his weapon, smiling easily as Rosalie and Jake maintain their stance. "Just conducting a business transaction."

"They are not delivered until they are in my custody." The man seems to have gotten his head back on. "Until I have booked them, I can't release the bounty. You will get your units - outside. You get them to the edge of the loading bay, I will transfer you the units, with the backing of my men from the ground."

Edward accepts. He needs those units, with as little fuss as possible.

The four guards leave the hall, leaving Edward, Jake and Rosalie outside the door. On the feed Edward sees both siblings tense, standing straight as the man frantically talks at the girl.

"Jake, you take the man. I take the girl. Rose, knock them out. No need to maim them."

Banging on the door, Edward turns the comms on.

"Both of you, faces pressed against the opposite wall. We're coming in. We _will _shoot if you fight us." Turning the comm off, he waits until he sees both of them, after some arguing, face the wall.

"Shall we?"

Edward opens the door, and Rosalie goes in first, aim true as she targets the man first, his only reaction to sway, and before he even registers what happens the girl too has a dart sticking out of her jugular. By the time the brother hits the floor, the girl has fallen to her knees.

Jake makes quick work of picking up the unconscious man, throwing his bruised body over his shoulder like a piece of meat. Edward, despite himself, is gentler, picking up the girl against his chest, her body limp.

Rose walks behind them as they move the length of the ship, the three of them silent.

For all the worrying, for all the hesitation, it is all simple. Sleeping dart to the neck, no need to fight, no need to make a mess.

When they arrive in the loading bay, the soldiers are standing halfway up the loading doors, numbers now at their back. More advanced weaponry than Edward has ever seen is brandished in every one of their grasps, the soldier Edward spoke to replaced by someone more senior, several people more senior.

"Units. To here."

Edward nods at Rosalie who gently throws a comms unit to the first soldier. His smile is uncanny, dark eyes and black greased hair pushed off his face.

"I am afraid I have already been told where to transfer the payment." He tosses the unit back to Rosalie who cannot masque her confusion in time.

Alarm bells are going off in Edward's head. Something about it. Something is wrong. He is vulnerable, still holding the girl in his arms, Jake with the brother, Rosalie inching back.

He feels more than sees the three civilians in his crew, behind them.

It's a trap if he's ever seen one.

"And where would that be?"

"_He has betrayed you, Captain."_

Her voice is strong in his head, and he tries his hardest to not let it show on his face.

"_The one you call Jake has betrayed you."_

"Not to worry, Captain." Jake speaks up a fraction of second later, taking a step toward the soldiers, the brother still over his shoulder. "I notified them of our arrival - as a precaution. Nothing personal."

"Jacob Black, one million units have been transferred into your account." The commander sounds bored already. "As soon as you hand us the brother you are free to confirm and share the bounty among your…_peers_. Then we will be taking the girl. Slowly, now."

Seething, blinding fury clouds Edward's judgement, more angry at himself for not anticipating something like this. He will deal with Jake, _efficiently_, once this mess is over.

"_Trust your crew."_ Her voice in his head again, and he risks a look into her face, startled to see her eyes blinking open, red bleeding into her golden orbs. She should be out. Should be dead to the world.

"_I have developed a resistance to your darts. On her queue, let me fall to the floor. Trust your crew."_

He is distracted, only looking up when Jake has already handed the brother's limp body over to a guard, face smiling as he stares down at his own comm unit.

"That is sheer beauty, Commander. Pleasure doing business with you."

"_Now."_

"Ice-cream!"

The odd word makes Edward react instinctively.

It is Alice's voice, and the whole crew know the code.

Edward drops to the floor, girl in his arms forgotten, and blinding, white light shatters in the air between them, Edward's ear-drums bursting from the shock-wave. He doesn't know what happens next. He is on the ground, the girl is gone, or is she - someone is moving, using the commotion to their advantage, smooth, small limbs a flurry of activity, strong blows delivered in precise order, a broken nose, a hit to the solar-plexus, red eyes flying on the air, through the soldiers, and she is _beautiful_—_terrifying_—engineered—

The loud ringing in his ears stops him from hearing anything else, but suddenly she is in front of him, red eyes urgent as she moves her lips, but he cannot hear. He gets dragged up by the collar, dragged down the corridor, and glancing behind him he can see the bay-doors closing, only one dead soldier still left inside. All other are outside, unconscious on the ground.

"_Get us out of here! Now!"_

He gets thrown in the pilot seat, and heart almost bursting out of his chest he hits buttons at random, not knowing if he's starting the ship, not knowing what he's doing, but somehow they're airborn, slowly - too slowly - hovering as they fight against gravity—

The first hit makes the ship lurch, falling instantly. By sheer luck Edward heaves the controls and throws the wings out to compensate before they hit a skyscraper. Emmett has found the other seat, blood dripping from his ears yet the pilot knows what he needs to do. Fly. It is simple.

Together, they get her moving upward again, engines straining under the sudden load, and Edward is sure they are making that noise again - the one that made him instantly land the last time he heard it. He is almost glad the ringing prevents him from hearing it.

Half the controls are lit up in flashing red lights. There is a breach in the hull somewhere, yet they have no option but to fly upward, pray they reach space—

The second hit is unimaginably worse than the first. The ship careens to the side, gravity still holding them in its clutches as they struggle to stay in their seats. They are falling. Falling, crashing, the engines have cut out, there is nothing he can do, they are all dying—

Her hand is bloodied when it slams down on the control panel.

One palm, fingers stretched wide, pushing her digits into the controls as if to merge with it, as if reaching out to _become_ it.

Sparks and electricity fly from her skin as the ship fails, but she does not. She has become something, something more than human - perhaps she always was - and the next hit to their fragile hull is simply a thud, a knock, as her body lurches, almost collapsing against the panel as blood streams from her nose and ears. And yet - red eyes are bright as she somehow floats the ship upward, a silvery skin of electricity covering the ship from the outside.

They are flying - upward, again, escaping. The missiles cannot touch them, they are moving far quicker than Edward has ever seen his ship fly through any atmosphere and by some grace they are in space, shooting out into the abyss as she wavers.

Something kicks in, he remembers that he is a captain, that there are lives on board, and he hits the code for a breeched hull, giving the crew a scant thirty seconds to get into sealed living areas. He stumbles out of his seat, throwing himself down the corridor, down steps and ladders, reaching the loading bay where Alice is trying to drag the Reverend into the hall, out of the danger zone.

Black flashes on the walls, hull-breech.

Edward, using the last of his strength as the ship moves unsteadily, pushed forward by unnatural forces he cannot understand, drags the Reverend into the hall, pushing Alice in behind him, and despite it all, goes to grab Jake who too is unconscious. With no ceremony he throws him into safety, relieved when he sees that Rose is awake, dragging the brother into an area that can be sealed.

By a miracle, when the sealing doors shut, they are all accounted for, only human left in the disintegrating loading-bay the one soldier who was unfortunate enough to remain on ship.

The ringing in his ears is starting to lessen, slowly replaced by warning alarms, and he cannot stop, needs to push ahead. Jumping over unconscious bodies he drags himself to the pilot-seats, Emmett desperately trying to do something, grab something that has any impact on where the ship is going.

The girl is still at the control panel, both hands connected, but she is failing, electricity is waning - her energy is spent.

"Let go, Isabella." Her name appears in his mind from the wanted listing, and it rolls off his tongue in a way that makes his chest ache. _Let go, I've got you, just let go and let us drift._

Red seeps from her eyes, his irises softening, going golden as electricity dissipates from the air, the engines completely silent and yet leaving them shooting forward with immense speed from the inertia. When her body falters, Edward catches her, limbs slight and trembling against him.

Emmett looks worse for wear, shock making him fumble, repeatedly trying to grab the levers and missing.

"_I'm okay. Just leave me."_

Her voice in his head makes Edward feel less bad about leaving her. He helps her down on the floor, her body lacking the strength to even hold herself up.

"_Jasper, my brother—"_

"Is as safe as the rest of us. Emm, we need to get this piece of junk moving. I'm helping Alice."

His balance is shot as he tries to get to the engine room as quickly as he is able. Alice is already there, having thrown hatches open, pulling at wires, emergency generators engaged.

"I've almost got it, I've almost got it!" She is panicked, yet fully in control, thriving in the chaos of the engine room. "Grab the negative and connect it to the wall!"

Edward does as he is told, some engineering knowledge telling him that Alice is very much going to overload the system, kill the engine for good, but for the second time that day, he listens to his instinct.

"You knew?" The question is rhetorical, she was the one to throw the bomb, after all.

"Sorry!" Alice doesn't sound apologetic at all. "Right, hit the A-switch, she promised this would work. And it better cause I'm not blowing up my baby for nothing!"

Edward has a sneaky suspicion who _she_ is, and doesn't know what to make of the fact that Isabella has been silently speaking to someone other than himself.

He hits the switch, reminding himself - despite it all - that he trusts his crew with his life, and the explosion that follows is present long enough for Edward to consider throwing his arms up, but in slow motion, the energy is stopped in its tracks, as if in a magnetic field, flowing inwards and under, light spinning faster and faster as a coil of energy whirs like a donut, pulsing from north to south.

"Fuck me!" Alice is screaming, jumping. "She was fucking right! Edward it's a new fucking engine! It's a new type! It's—you don't get it, it shouldn't be possible!"

"I told you it'd work." Her voice is weak, but he can hear the smile.

Turning around, he sees Isabella leaning against the archway into the engine room, clothes torn and bloody, but she is intact, in one piece.

Pushing his palm against an all-ship comm-unit he barks out the order.

"Emmett, get us the fuck out of here. To the edges of space if you need to. Engine's running. Find us a desolate planet to do repairs."

Lifting his hand off the comm, he advances on Isabella, hardly knowing what comes over him when he grasps her by the neck, pushing her body into the wall, crowding her as he holds her up by the wind-pipe. She gasps, hands clawing at his wrists as terrified breaths fan out over his face. He can feel the heat of her body.

"Edward!" Alice is ignored.

"What are you?" he has no qualms about what he's doing. He just saw this girl - this woman - disarm a whole unit, kill a man, then turn into some supernova and power his ship. If she wants to, he is certain she can overpower him. "What are you!"

"I'm Is-Isabella—" her voice is cut off and he sets her down on her feet, still maintaining his grip on her neck.

"What are you?"

He knows what he means. Knows that her name is not enough.

Gold eyes capture his, some calm returning to her features. Even with blood splattered on her face she is the most striking woman he has ever seen, _creature_, he has ever seen.

"Part of you crew."_"If you'll have me." _The last part weaves itself into his mind, the words lulling, soothing, erotic.

"Fuck it." After the day he's had, restraint is not at the top of his priorities. He kisses her.

Her lips are warm, hot, moving against his. He winds his fingers to the back of her head, releasing her neck, some distant thought wondering how she will look with longer hair.

Her breath is sweet, her tongue searing, and when they break apart, Edward has to remember that Alice is behind them, that he cannot take this creature against the wall right then and there.

"_Soon."_

He heeds her single word, remembering that he has things to do. _People _to fix.

He grabs her by the hand as he pulls her forward, toward the shared living quarters where an unconscious Jasper has been thrown on a couch, and Jake is just coming to, groaning on the floor with Rose standing tall and proud above him, blonde hair flying as she aims her gun at his groin.

"Let's go."

The Reverend has woken up, still dazed but looking capable of movement.

"Grab Jake's essentials from his quarters. Now."

Carlisle abides, and Edward releases Isabella to grab Jake by the back of the neck, hauling the still confused man down corridors, toward the escape-hatches.

It is with great pleasure that he forces him into a vertical escape hatch, and only when Jake begins to struggle does he reach for his gun, placing the muzzle of the weapon right between his eyes, un-cocking the safety.

Unsurprisingly, Jake quiets down.

"It's been…real _splendid_, having you as part of the crew, Jake. Good times. Really." Fury and fear flash in the man's eyes, and Edward feels some residual respect for him. No desperation at least.

"I'm not robbing you," he spits, trying to calm himself. "I was just making sure everything went smoothly. I'm happy to transfer everyone their share—"

"Oh, that's a given." Edward feels Carlisle come back, and glancing behind him he grabs the comm unit handed to him by Rosalie. The three of them, including Isabella, stand behind as Edward hands Jake the comm unit. "Per my reckoning, with two hundred owed to Victoria, and thirty for repairs - actually, let's make that fifty for the trouble, and the Reverend's part forfeited, that makes an even one hundred and fifty thousand units each. Therefore, you will transfer me eight-hundred and fifty thousand units. On with it."

"I was always going to—"

"I said _on with it."_

Visibly seething Jake tries to see past the gun in his line of sight. The silence is tense until he gives the comm unit back, Edward automatically handing it to Rosalie.

"All is in order." Her voice is calm, unflappable. He loved the damn woman for that.

"Beautiful. Now, the Reverend has kindly collected your essentials. If you please?"

Carlisle moves forward, handing Jake a duffle bag with mostly weapons, some documents.

"I would be…" Edward continues, "satisfied with counting your previously accrued ship's debt covered by the possessions you will be unable to take with you. I wouldn't want you to feel like we've parted on _less_ than pleasant terms. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Jake nearly breaks a tooth with how much he grinds his teeth together.

"I will programme this little shuttle to take you back to the lovely planet we just came from. And from this moment forward I consider our contract…terminated. You are no longer employed on the _Serenity_."

Jake replies by spitting Edward in the face. With his free arm, Edward wipes the spit with his sleeve, disgusted, and yet forcing himself to stay calm.

"It's been…a real joy working together, Jake." He twists the gun, pushing it more firmly against the man's forehead. "Nothing personal, you know. Rose."

Edward steps back as Rose quickly programs the escape shoot, metal covering Jake's furious face in a moment. As the pod disengages from its safety it counts down for three, two, one…

The pod disappears with Jake inside of it, and Edward turns, finding Isabella's eyes on him.

"Your brother good for anything?"

Her smile is dangerous.

"Everything I know about hand-to-hand combat I learned from him."

"Marvellous. You're hired."

Unable to resist, he closes the distance and kisses her, her body light in his arms as she wraps her legs around his hips.

In the back of his mind he hears Rosalie laugh.

"Come on, Reverend. We're clearly not needed."

As he feels them leaving the room, he pushes Isabella up against the wall, her hands tearing at his clothes.

"_Don't you have places to be?"_ Her thoughts invade his mind.

"Soon."

.

.

.


End file.
